Oklahoma! Oklahoma! Thou shall ever live in song; Freedom, near to nature, raises Temples that to thee belong; Minstrels shall in merry praises Wind their music o'er thy name Till the voices of the ages Shout for thee in wild acclaim; They shall sing with tender pleasure Beauty of thy daughters true; Sing, in high, exultant measure, Deeds thy sons in battle do. Sages shall in wisdom offer Full rewards of love to thee, And shall crown thy land and people Favorites of liberty. All thy glory shall be shining Through the cycles clear and strong; Oklahoma! Oklahoma! Though shall ever live in song! Oklahoma! Oklahoma! Romance of the ages, thou! Now, unknown; a moment later. Kingly crowns upon thy brow! Child of all the nations, greater Shall thy splendors year by year Grow unfading, bringing bounties Full of happiness and cheer! Morning saw a desert sleeping, Worn and wasted with distress; Night beheld an empire keeping Watch above the wilderness. Progress with her wand of magic Touched the sleeping valleys bright, And they leaped with instant vigor, Shaking out their locks of might; Earth shall send her fairest blossoms As a garland for thy brow; Oklahoma! Oklahoma! Romance of the ages thou! THE RACE FOR HOMES. APRIL 22, 1889. Behold! As from the shades of night, An army gathers full of might, And strong with constant courage stands 'Tween civilized and savage lands, Where, vast in power, the legion waits The turning of the desert gates, That men of might may enter in And progress all her glories win! Lo, where these thousands make assail, The barren ages all shall fail, And swift advancement far be hurled, O'er sleeping empires and the world! The morning hours haste hurried by; Behold! The noon is drawing nigh! The anxious host with careful eyes Marks well each rapid hour that flies, While hope, exulting, wildly rolls The highest, such as filled the souls Of Jason and his comrades bold, Who sought the famous fleece of gold. Upon the trampled grasses beat Impatient steeds with restless feet; The dins of harsh, discordant cries Above the thrilling thousands rise; Shrilly the scattered children call, And soft the words of women fall, While men with voices hushed and weak Their low commands expectant speak; Till suddenly a mighty cry, A shout of warning, smites the sky: